


Dollar Store Frames

by ayaheartright



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Hipster Castiel, How Do I Tag, M/M, Sunsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayaheartright/pseuds/ayaheartright
Summary: Wrote from a prompt from the Destiel Trash Facebook Group: One day the boys find out that Castiel sees in infra-red colors. Saddened that Cas has never seen a sunset, really seen a sunset, they use holy fire to spruce up some dollar store sunglasses. Cuteness happens when Cas sees Dean's eyes for the first time.





	

  
  


Dean bounced on the balls of his feet. The newly made glasses slipped in his sweaty hands. He had no idea why, exactly, he was so nervous - it wasn’t like these were his: The dollar store hipster glasses Sam picked up on the way home from their last hunt. The younger Winchester waited until Cas binge-watched Netflix to approach Dean with his find, and Dean ran to grab the holy water from Baby’s trunk when Sam’s rambling clicked. 

 

“Is there a certain time in which the colors become available?”

 

“What? No. I just -” Dean grumbled. He glanced over at Cas. “You just gotta see it at the perfect moment, okay?” He held his hands out and shook them, emphasizing his point. “Like - It’s just gotta be perfect, man! This is your first real sunset!”

 

“So… he should have put them on a few minutes ago.” Sam stated, his head tilted to the left slightly. “The changes leading up to Golden Hour is obviously the best.” 

 

“What?” Dean asked, his face scrunched up in a typical ‘what the fuck are you talking about Sammy,’ expression.

 

“You know, when the sun is at six degrees and --”    
  


Dean turned to Cas, and cut off his brother. “I always liked the pancake part.” Cas cocked his head, listening, and said nothing. “When the sun is just a flat line and the colors are super pronounced. Not this sissy pastel crap Sam, apparently, adores.” 

 

“You do know we are three guys watching a sunset together.” Sam shrugged. “Isn't it all a little romantic and sissy?” 

 

“Sam’s right, Dean.” Cas responded, gravely serious. “Perhaps he should leave.” 

 

“What?!” Dean exclaimed. The glasses threatened to fall to the concrete. 

 

Sam bit his lip to keep from smiling. It didn't work. “Yeah, ya know - you're right.” He came between the small space separating Dean and Cas, and patted them both on the shoulders. “You two should enjoy this without a third wheel.” 

 

Dean waited till he heard the bunker door close, loud enough it echoed even outside, to reach out his hand. “I guess you should decide for yourself, which is best.” The glasses dangled from his fingers. Dean tensed his jaw when Cas accepted. 

 

The angel didn't say anything about the moist plastic. 

 

Cas slipped the framed up his nose, a myriad of emotions became evident behind his blank face. He fiddled with the fit, adjusting them on his ears, and finally focused. His eyes darted to and fro. They widened with each bit of new information, his mouth hanging open in silent shock.

 

“Well, look any different?” Dean chuckled. 

 

Cas didn't, or rather couldn't, answer. Dean shuffled. He moved closer to Cas, trying to follow the frantic movements of his friend’s eyes. Cas closed them, and tried again. 

 

He started with the dirt under his feet. Then slowly, painstakingly, let his gaze travel up the gnarly tree by the bunker. Dean felt a sting of rejection when Cas avoided him, and turned his head to the side to see the sky. 

 

“So?” 

 

Dean took a deep breath, and tried to imagine: the sunset consisted of pinks and purples, blended in the low hanging clouds with light lines and mild swirls. Sure, it was pretty. He came to that conclusion by comparison though. As much as Dean wished he could see the sunset through Cas’s eyes, he couldn't. 

 

“Maybe it's like being on Elvis.” He mused. 

 

Cas turned to him then. “Elvis? Like the musician?” 

 

“No. it's slang for a..c...i...d.” 

 

Dean gulped at the way Cas gawked. His heart hammered in his ears; he felt lightheaded. Cas inched closer. He felt the angel’s warm breath on his flushed face. Cas’s slack jaw bowed to a wide beaming grin. His glow had nothing to do with grace. 

 

Cas touched Dean’s cheek below his eye, hand shaking. “Green.” He breathed. “Dean. Your eyes are  _ green _ .” 

  
“Yeah. Well. Now I know. You saved the best for last.” Dean joked, and closed the gap.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm crying!


End file.
